From the Belly of the Bloodhound
by RichardJ
Summary: An alternative ending to In the Belly of the Bloodhound. Jacky and the girls of the Lawson Peabody School find adventure and romance in a Moroccan harem. Book 1 of a series or can be read as a standalone story.
1. Chapter 1

Preface: This is an alternative ending to L. A. Meyer's _In the Belly of the Bloodhound_. Mr. Meyer is acknowledged as the creator of the Bloody Jack characters and story. This story picks up the plot near the beginning of chapter 50 where we find the 32 kidnapped Lawson Peabody girls ready to make their break for freedom from the hold of the vile slave ship, _Bloodhound_ as it crosses the Atlantic Ocean bound for the Barbary Coast of North Africa.

The Atlantic Ocean, somewhere off the coast of Morocco; 22 June 1806

The first part of the plan goes well. Clarissa is up on deck undressing for her bath and seems to have the full attention of the crew. The Rat Hole is open and the first of the girls are making their way to the lifeboat. I leap onto the rope which Mick and Keefe are still hauling up, obviously too busy watching Clarissa to notice the extra weight.

But I am mistaken.

The second I raise my head out of the hold I realise things are going wrong. The business end of a pistol is pushed against my face and an unseen hand grabs my neck.

"Where do you think you're going, little Miss Troublemaker?" sneers Sin-Kay.

I hear screams and shouts around me and see several of the girls on deck have also been captured. Shouts and cries from the hold tell me all is going wrong down below as well. Only Katy Deere stands clear of the scuffles going on around the deck. Quickly she looses two arrows and two of the seamen fall to the deck in cries of agony. Before she can notch a third, however, Captain Blodgett raises his pistol and fires at short range. Katy staggers and then drops like a stone, a horrible bloody stain on the back of her dress.

Confused, Hughie doesn't know what to do at first. Suddenly he charges at Blodgett and the men on the quarterdeck, but his brave efforts are futile and he too is cut down before my eyes. My poor brave Hughie, what I have brought upon you.

In less than ten minutes our carefully laid plans had been reduced to nothing and we are all back in the hold. This time however our captors make use of the shackles around the hold to make sure we stay exactly where we are put. I am not the only one of the girls to feel despair and all of us are in tears.

It takes several hours before I regain my senses and look around. Most of the girls are still curled up and weeping. What could have gone wrong? How did the crew overcome us so quickly? Oh, what are we to do now?

It is this last question and the realisation that we had so quickly lost our only chance of escape that brings on another spell of weeping. Only when I hear Connie reciting the Lord's prayer do I manage to control my misery. Several of the other girls join in the prayer and gradually the sobs and sniffles around the hold quieten.

It is mid afternoon by the time we are all sufficiently in control of our emotions to talk.

My mind begins to come back into focus. Think, girl, think.

"We must make another plan".

I don't need the silence to tell me that any plan without the means to move far is pointless. The cruel shackles mean we are locked together in coffles, each linking five or six girls. Each girl is only able move a short distance without the rest of her coffle. I have Annie on my left and Julia on my right. Beyond Annie are Sally, Lissette and Rose in my group. What chance do we have of escaping like this?

I know Katy has been seriously injured and probably killed, but is everyone else alright?

"Is anyone injured. Let's have a roll call".

Fortunately injuries are limited to a few cuts and bruises. It is now we realise that not only is Katy not with us, but Rebecca and Elspeth are missing as well.

Because of Elspeth's emotional state following her earlier attempt at freedom, Connie was to look after her when we left the hold. Likewise Annie and Sylvie were to guide Rebecca, who was weak from fever.

"Connie, did you see what happened to Elspeth? Did anyone?"

"We were jumped on as we passed the galley and I lost my hold on Elspeth. The last I saw of her she was scrambling up onto the deck shouting 'No, no, no'".

None of the girls on deck had seen her go by them, but each had been busy with problems of her own. In any case she couldn't have gone far along the deck or I would have seen her. With a sinking feeling we realise that she must have jumped overboard. As Sin-Kay counted us before locking us up it means he at least knows what happened to our three dear friends.

"Sylvie, Annie. What about Rebecca?"

"She was taken by Cookie" informs Annie, "She seemed unhurt but I don't know what happened to her after we were pushed back into the store room".

Cathy, who was in front of Rebecca as the girls left the hold, confirms she saw Rebecca with Cookie and Keefe after the struggle was over. We can only hope she is safe and they have kept her away from us in case her fever is contagious.

"Shall we say a prayer for our missing friends" suggests Connie.

"Yes let's", agrees Rose.

And so we all say a prayer and I tell the girls how Katy had been willing to die a warrior's death. I didn't add that she had also told me why and that she would prefer that to the existence we who remain are now destined to endure. But I am not willing to give up hope of escape and as I look around me I see the same determination on Clarissa's face. What a gutsy girl you are Clarissa.

For the next few hours we try to comfort each other as best we can. The sound of banging down by the Rat Hole means the crew must be repairing our escape holes. Not that we could organize a successful escape through there any more.

Some time later Sin-Kay and two of the crew deliver our evening meal.

"Where's Rebecca, Elspeth and Katy?" calls Dolley from the back of the hold. Sin-Kay looks round with a scowl but is unable to tell which of us has spoken. Well done Dolley.

"You will remain silent and do as I say" he commands, clearly seething with anger at what occurred this morning. Although our escape attempt failed, it clearly caused Sin-Kay further loss of face with the crew. To our disappointment he obviously has no intention of answering Dolley's question.

"The crew have repaired the damage you have done so you have no means of escape. Now, each group will come forward in turn and your chains will be removed. Any trouble and you'll be left in them. Then you will take your food. Do not even think of refusing to eat or I'll bring Nettles down here. I'm sure he will be delighted to force feed you".

We do as we are told and struggle to eat the greasy slop. Not one of Cookie's better meals.

The shutters are put in place at the usual time and the darkness leaves us with our own private thoughts. We are all too drained to talk.

Despite my fear my mind is working furiously. So Sammy Nettles is still alive. Clarissa and I had not killed him last night as we had thought. He must have come round in time to alert the crew of the Rat Hole - not soon enough for them to stop us from trying to escape, but in time to ruin our chances.

If we can't escape the _Bloodhound_ then we must wait until we reach our destination. Where will we land? When on the _Emerald_ I visited several ports on the Barbary Coast, so I know a bit about some of them. It seems unlikely the crew would risk running the gauntlet of English warships patrolling the Straits of Gibraltar, so Morocco is our likely destination. Now think Jacky, what can I remember of Morocco ...


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2:

The next morning after Sin-Kay's roll call Dolley, Clarissa and I hold our first officer's meeting since our attempted escape.

"We must keep everyone occupied or we'll not be in a fit state to take any chance of escape that may come our way", I suggest.

It doesn't seem the time to add that a fit and healthy girl is likely to attract a better bidder on the auction block.

Dolley and Clarissa both agree and we decide to keep up the daily routine we had established, apart from our work on the Rat Hole. I had scouted around down below as soon as there was enough light and found the Rat Hole well sealed and my bag gone. Damn! No tools; no anything.

Most of the girls agree to keep up the routine, if somewhat less enthusiastically than before. We mustn't let the crew think we are beaten, even if we have little hope of escaping the _Bloodhound_ before our destination.

Connie has decided prayer is her, and our, best hope of salvation and Caroline and Martha have joined her in extended periods of religious devotion. While none of the other girls join them, they are left in peace to do what they think is right. I certainly can't offer a better solution at the moment.

"What I don't understand is why they haven't replaced Hughie to watch over us", says Chrissy.

"I think they are short handed and can't spare anyone", I reply.

I know brave Katy had at least disabled two crew, and the other Dianas report having injured a further three. Dolley apparently left my shiv in Chubbuck's throat. While I will miss my shiv, it at least went to a good home. Had so many of the girls not been trapped in the narrow passage below we may have even been able to take the ship.

"How do you think they managed to stop us so quickly?", asks Clarissa.

"Sammy Nettles must have come round in time to sound the alarm", I say.

"No, I don't think it was Nettles" pipes in Dolley. "As I unlocked the store room door I saw him under the shelf where you and Clarissa must have left him. He was moaning and groaning but I don't see how he could have raised the alarm".

Well then, which of the crew did raise the alarm? There is no doubt in my mind that they were prepared for our escape, if only by a few minutes. Unfortunately none of us have an answer.

Other than gradually restore some spirit into the Lawson Peabody girls the only other thing of importance we do that day is to make what we call the Second Pledge. We have already pledged not to betray each other. The Second Pledge we make is that if any of us escape, or are set free, then they will never cease to help secure the release of those remaining captive, no matter how long it takes.

The next day Rebecca is returned to us. She is still a bit weak but is over her fever. She has been in a hastily arranged sick bay up forward. Sadly she tells us that Katy has died and has no knowledge of Elspeth's fate. Chubbuck and two of the crew have also died, and two more are still too injured to leave the sick bay.

It is with some surprise that three days later the Second Pledge looks as if it is about to take on real meaning.

During the night we had come to a halt and the anchor dropped. I had heard one of the boats lowered over the side in the early hours of the morning. As the first light of day brightens the sky we are assembled on deck. I notice the boat we had hoped to use for our escape has gone and Sin-Kay is nowhere to be seen.

The crew keep a very close watch on us even though they have locked us in the marching chain. At first we had panicked thinking they were going to drop us over the side, but clearer heads prevailed. They are simply taking a precaution in case we jump overboard or try to take the ship in desperation.

I look around at the harbour and city. I recognise it at once. Salé, Morocco - the western most part of the Barbary Coast. Not my preferred destination and definitely not a place for a girl to go wandering around alone. Even if we weren't in the marching chain, a leap over the side and swim for shore would be jumping out of the frying pan into the fire.

A local boat draws up alongside and a podgy middle aged European man comes aboard and walks over to Captain Blodgett. He produces a piece of paper and speaks to the captain. While we can't hear all the conversation we gather his name is Harold Fotherington and the paper is a receipt from Sin-Kay for a ransom for one of us. We can't hear who, but can only be a matter of minutes before we find out.

Suddenly a look of hope appears on our faces. One of us is about to be rescued by this stranger ...


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3:

Captain Blodgett seems satisfied and directs Harold Fotherington to wait at the gangway. Who is the lucky girl the ransom has freed?

Much to our surprise Captain Blodgett doesn't walk towards us, but instead goes into his cabin. A few moments later he returns with a girl in a Lawson Peabody uniform. We all stand speechless.

Elspeth Goodwin.

There is a sudden sharp intake of breath and a lot of muttering and hissing. Elspeth walks quickly to the gangway trying to avoid the hostile stares of 30 of her former school friends. She briefly nods to Captain Blodgett, removing any last possible doubt in our minds that it was she who betrayed us. Harold Fortherington greets her with a bow and helps her climb down into the waiting boat. If the frosty stare of 30 girls could have any effect on the world, then the harbour would have turned to ice in an instant.

"Elspeth, for God's sake tell our parents where we are!" shouts Caroline, voicing the only practical comment we make during the whole episode.

Captain Blodgett walks over to us and commands silence.

"In an hour you will be off my ship and good riddance", he snarls.

But it is not an hour, or two, or even three. The sun is rising higher in the sky and the already warm morning is turning hot. We are at least moved under a hastily rigged canvas shade, allowed to sit down, and given water and food. Sin-Kay's continued absence is making Captain Blodgett and the crew very nervous indeed.

It doesn't take us long to work out how Elspeth managed to alert the crew of our escape. Rose had seen Elspeth tie her blue ribbon to the bars on the hatch just before we started our escape. Rose didn't think anything of it at the time but now it is clear it was a pre-arranged signal. Her earlier attempt to gain her freedom at my expense must have achieved more than we all thought. Captain Blodgett must have agreed to ransom her at the end of the voyage if she agreed to be his spy.

Finally, a smart looking schooner comes sailing towards us. It pulls up alongside with a precision demonstrating the skill of its crew. Two men dressed in djellabas, the traditional robe worn by both men and women in these parts, and Sin-Kay, come aboard and go onto the quarterdeck where a very annoyed Captain Blodgett waits. We can only catch snippets of the conversation but our eavesdropping is aided by the _Bloodhound_'s crew who are also anxious to know what is going on.

During the next half hour we learn that the original deal struck between Sin-Kay and three slave dealers has fallen through on account of two of the dealers being dead and the third in hiding. The raids by the desert Berbers, which were happening well to the south when I last visited Salé, have apparently spread north and several of the city's citizens have either fled the city or been killed. It seems the two Arab men represent a local merchant willing to take us off Sin-Kay's hands, but at a much reduced price.

After much haggling a deal is struck and by midday we are on board the schooner and sitting in the small hold among various crates and barrels. The _Bloodhound_'s marching chain has been removed and replaced by lighter, but no less effective, ankle chains linking us in coffles of five. A quick look round the hold tells me this ship is not usually used to transport human cargo. I sense the crew are uncomfortable with what is going on. A feeling born out by the odd assortment of chains linking us, suggesting the crew had to find them from somewhere else in a great hurry.

The deal must also have included our few personal effects and my heart skips a beat when I see my bag being transferred to the schooner.

There were no goodbye's or farewell speeches from Sin-Kay or Captain Blodgett and from the look on their faces they are not at all happy with the deal. Good, I hope the pair of them rot in Hell. Only Mick and Keefe acknowledge us with a small nod as we depart.

"What's going to happen to us now?" whispers Julia.

I had been putting off thinking about the next few hours and days and I was dreading anyone asking. I had briefly told the girls earlier in our voyage of our likely fate once we landed, but it had seemed so far in the future at that time. I take a deep breath and am about to nervously answer Julia's question when Lissette speaks out in her lilting French accent.

"Unless some miracle happens it zeems likely we will be marched though ze main street to ze slave market. Ze market owner will write our names and details in a book. And after a few days zey will put us on ze auction block."

We all sit staring at Lissette, not only because of what she said but the matter-of-fact way she said it. Anyone listening would have thought she was describing a Sunday walk on the beach. She maintains her elegant poise and only her eyes betray her hidden fear. I struggle to hold back a cry and I only just succeed.

Although in deep despair none of the girls becomes hysterical. A sign that we have matured as a group and as long as we are together we shall get through this. But how long will we be together?

"We had better pray for a miracle then" says Connie. For once we don't hesitate in offering a quick prayer.

The Lawson Peabody girls have come from the belly of the _Bloodhound_ and our Moroccan adventure is about to begin ...


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4:

Three covered wagons are waiting for us when the schooner docks and we are spared the humiliation of being marched through the city. The ship's crew are clearly happy to get us off their ship as quickly as possible. The two men who negotiated with Sin-Kay and Captain Blodgett don't seem to be able to agree over something but I can't tell what, mainly because I don't understand Arabic. One of them walks off and the other issues some orders to the dozen or so men with the wagons.

We are loaded into the wagons, ten girls in each, sat five to a side. A large basket of fresh bread is put on the floor between us as are several pitchers of water. We quickly share this unexpected bounty between us. No telling when the next meal might arrive.

Without undue delay the rear of the wagons are fastened and we set off. We can glimpse part of the city from over the driver's shoulder and after a while realise we are heading out of the city. Once clear of the city we briefly stop in a grove of trees where we are allowed to stretch our legs and relieve ourselves.

After two hours on the open road we spot a small hill ahead, on top of which stands an old fort. The driver doesn't complain when we move closer to the front to get a better look over his shoulder. He points to the fort and says something to us in Arabic which we can't understand. While I'm relieved we are not being taken to the slave market, this fort has all the appearances of a gloomy prison.

The heavy wooden gates are already open as we cross over a dry moat and between the two towers either side of the gates. I see a cannon mounted on top of each tower, but neither looks as if it's been fired in years. I notice a few armed men patrolling the battlements but I cannot tell whether they are to keep people in or out.

If I had thought this place looked gloomy from the outside then the inside shows me how wrong I can be. The inside is a small palace with three beautifully decorated buildings standing on three sides of a huge courtyard where the wagons now stand. The drivers unfasten the tail gates and we are helped down from the wagons. We gather together and look nervously around us. Two huge men and a slender young woman walk towards us. It is the woman who speaks first, in flawless English.

"Hello, I'm A'isha and these are Samed and Mustafa. Welcome to your new home. I hope you will be comfortable in my brother's house. We had only a few hours notice of your arrival so I regret we are not fully prepared for so many of you. I suggest you take some time to wash and refresh yourselves before our evening meal. I'm sure you could all do with a good bath. Mustafa, remove the chains from the girls and Samed, please show them to the baths. I must leave you now to continue making preparations for your accommodation. Samed will show you where to go and please do follow his orders."

Without further ceremony A'isha walks off into one of the buildings with the look of someone with a lot to do and very little time to do it in. Without saying a word Samed guides us towards the building opposite and down a long beautifully decorated corridor. I glimpse at the murals on the walls and see they are very old and very ... sensuous. Rebecca and Julia are walking beside me and they too have noticed the murals. Rebecca is blushing and doesn't know where to look.

"Look straight ahead and pretend you're Mistress Pimm" I say light-heartedly to Rebecca. I don't follow my own advice however and by the time we reach the end of the corridor I too feel a bit flushed.

The corridor opens into a large room where there are no less than three cascading pools, fed by a small waterfall at the top of the smallest pool. Samed is clearly a man of few words; in fact, no words as far as I can tell. He points to the soap and towels and indicates where we should leave our clothes. He turns away and closes the door behind him.

In less than a minute we are all splashing about in the pools naked. We each take turns to scrub each other and for the first time in ages I feel really clean. Our cavorting goes on for some time before we settle down to relax on the large cushions scattered around the pools.

"What is this place?" asks Martha.

"We are in ze harem of zis palace" answers Lissette.

All of a sudden we come back to reality. As luxurious as our surroundings are, there is no escaping the fact we have been sold as slaves and are sitting in the harem of our owner. Our sudden feeling of dread is only made worse when Helen discovers all our clothes have been taken ...


	5. Chapter 5

Part 5:

It is at that moment Samed and Mustafa walk into the room carrying three bundles. Those of us nearest the door quickly move away from them and cover our nakedness with our towels. Neither Samed or Mustafa pay us any attention though, seemingly unaffected by the presence of 30 naked nubile young maidens. The bundles are placed on the table in the corner of the room and Samed cuts the ropes holding each bundle together. Out spills an assortment of clothing and slippers.

"Be ready in an hour" says Mustafa.

Ready for what? But before any of us can think to ask, both men leave the room.

We go over to the table and we quickly realise we are expected to select some clothing and slippers. They are all very pretty and I suspect of various styles commonly worn within a Moroccan harem. For the moment we put aside our fears as we embark on a frenzy of sifting through clothes. Only an hour, and so much to choose from.

The choosing is in danger of becoming out of control and the clothing may easily be ripped. Clarissa suddenly takes charge of the situation.

"Stop! You're going to damage the clothes. Let's sort them into sizes and styles so we can each choose from those that we like and will fit us."

Within 10 minutes the clothes are sorted into six groups laid out across the table and nearby cushions. We have sorted the clothes into three sizes and two basic styles. The two styles are quite different, one consisting of revealing silk tops, skirts, and trousers and the other much more modest styles made of decorated white muslin. Clarissa calls for us to stand in a circle with her in the middle. She closes her eyes and spins round several times before stopping and pointing to ... Helen.

"You first Helen, and choose quickly or you forfeit your turn."

With a quick squeal of joy, Helen promptly chooses a beautiful white dress with a sequin waist and a pair of slippers. She quickly puts them on and replaces Clarissa in the centre of the circle. The game continues with Clarissa being the sixth one to choose and the first to prefer silks. I am next to last and I find my choice limited to a silk outfit. I pick out a nice halter top and billowy trousers. There are no slippers left in my size but I manage to trade my larger pair with Dolley as she had picked a size too small for her. There are a few silk items left over which we leave on the table.

While this is going on Ruth has discovered an area behind a screen with combs and mirrors. There are wash basins and toilets there as well. We use our remaining twenty minutes combing our hair and preparing ourselves for whatever it is we need to be ready for.

A'isha appears at the end of the hour. She is dressed in silks very similar to those I wear and I must say she looks very attractive and graceful as she walks across the room towards us. I feel the need to improve my posture. She smiles and seems relieved that we are, in fact, ready. If it hadn't been for Clarissa she may well have walked in on 30 squabbling girls and a lot of torn clothing.

"Come, our meal awaits us and I will answer your questions while we eat."

She leads us further into the harem and we enter a large area with low tables and cushions. On the tables sit a variety of dishes and juices which represent the first decent meal we have seen in ages. We follow A'isha's example and take a plate and help ourselves to modest portions of whatever takes our fancy. I bravely resist the temptation to pile my plate high. We sit on the cushions and promptly devour our food, returning to the table several times for more food and drink. Samed and Mustafa stand like sentries by the archway.

A'isha patiently waits until our feeding frenzy eases.

"Let me tell you a bit about where you are and then I'll answer your questions."

Without waiting for a reply she continues.

"This place is know as Wadi Halaf and, since my father's death last year, is owned by my brother Hassan. In former times Wadi Halaf was fort guarding the borders of Salé. My great great grandfather was a famous pirate and with his treasures he converted this fort into the grand house you see around you. This area of the building is part of the old harem, although until your arrival today this room hasn't been used as such in years. Tomorrow you will be shown around those parts of the house you are permitted to go. Now I will answer your questions, but please say your name when you ask as I don't know any of them yet".

"I'm Dolley. What's going to happen to us? What does your brother intend to do with us?"

"As for your first question Dolley. Tomorrow you will be formally brought into the household. We will record your names and assess your skills and attributes to see what duties you may best perform. We will also make a physical examination of you. As for your second question, I'm afraid I don't know. Hassan is away on business in Rabat and as far as I'm aware doesn't yet know my half brothers Rashid and Abdul have purchased you in his name. I think he'll be in for a surprise when he returns later tonight."

"And what might our duties consist of, might I ask? Oh, I'm Clarissa."

"Well Clarissa, there are many domestic duties to be done in a house this size. This meal you are enjoying did not fall from the sky. The rooms and the corridors must be kept clean. For those who are good at embroidery and needlework, there are tasks that need those skills. But Hassan has the final say, I can only make suggestions."

"And what our our virginity. Is it our fate to wait in line while your brother sates his lust and deflowers us?" blurts out Ruth, trying to keep her voice steady.

I would have raised that question more indirectly, but it's definitely one all of us would like the answer to.


	6. Chapter 6

Part 6:

A'isha looked stunned at the question and then falls about in a fit of laughter. Not quite the reaction to Ruth's question I was expecting.

"Oh, I'm sorry my dear", says A'isha, regaining her composure. "But tell me your name."

"I'm R..R..Ruth", stammers Ruth, suddenly feeling very embarrassed.

"Ruth, your question is a serious one and I apologise for my laughter. But I forget you have not met my brother. It is true there are men in this city who would treat their slave girls that way, and worse, but Hassan has always been very ... well ... reserved. If you wish to bed my brother you must first try to catch his attention and then work very hard to seduce him. To the best of my knowledge only Jasmina and Miri have succeeded, although there are others who've tried."

There is an almost visible sigh of relief from the around the room. We only need to keep a low profile. Unfortunately that's not something I'm normally very good at.

"I'm Caroline. Who are Jasmina and Miri?"

"You will meet them tomorrow, Caroline. They are my brother's two odalisques."

We ask many questions over the next hour and A'isha answers them as best she can. We learn that Samed and Mustafa are the household's two eunuchs and, apart from Hassan, are the only men allowed inside this building. While they are our rulers within the harem they are also our protectors. A'isha makes a point of telling us we must do as they tell us or we will be punished.

Hassan is A'isha's twin brother and is 21 years old. Their father had instructed on his deathbed that Hassan rather than either of his two older half brothers take over the family trading business. The business owns three ships and trades in spices, fine cloths and other quality trade goods. Like his father, Hassan has refused to become involved in the slave trade, a decision which Rashid opposes. It is Rashid who purchased us with Hassan's money hoping to force his brother's hand.

Several loud voices from outside in the courtyard indicate something is going on. A'isha quickly stands up and signals that our meal and discussions are over for tonight.

"I think my brother has returned and has been informed of your arrival. I had better go to him at once before he and Rashid come to blows. I regret you must sleep in here tonight as your quarters are not ready yet. Please make yourself comfortable on the cushions. Mustafa will show you where there are blankets should you need them and I think you already know where the wash basins are. You may use the pools if you wish, but do not go wandering around the corridors or leave this part of the harem. I'll see you in the morning and we'll have breakfast together. Goodnight."

A'isha leaves with Samed and we each make a bed out of cushions. Mustafa helps us prepare our sleeping space and repeats A'isha's instructions not to leave these rooms.

Within an hour we are all fast asleep although I and several others have forsaken the cushions for the floor. After sleeping on the wooden shelves of the _Bloodhound_ for so long I'm not used to the softness of the cushions.

I have always been an early riser and today is no different. I sit on the floor and look up at the sky through the high windows. It is still dark but dawn cannot be far away. The oil lamps around the room cast enough light for me to see. Everyone else seems to be still asleep and I decide I may as well take a swim in the pools. I quietly go into the room with the pools and slip off my clothes. I float in the smallest pool which is pleasantly warm and lie near the small waterfall that keeps the pools flushed with clean water.

I hear someone coming and see that Rebecca is up and about. When she comes across my discarded clothing she looks around and sees me.

"Isn't this dreamy after that horrible hold on the _Bloodhound_", she bubbles. "And A'isha is so nice. I'm going to go exploring."

"No, wait, Rebecca", I cry. "A'isha and Mustafa said we were not to leave these rooms. You might get lost or caught, or both."

While I'm normally partial to a bit of exploring myself, I have taken heed of the warning both A'isha and Mustafa gave us last night. While we are in much better surroundings than we could possibly have imagined yesterday morning, we are far from being free to do as we like.

Rebecca doesn't listen and sneaks through into the corridor before I can catch her. I don't stop to dress myself and run after Rebecca. After a minute of frantic searching I find her in a small empty room off the corridor. Before I can say anything we hear footsteps coming along the corridor. We quickly duck behind some curtains hanging down the wall. The footsteps stop outside the door and we can hear someone enter the room. Fortunately whoever it is doesn't stop long and leaves.

We wait a minute and quietly move towards the door. I listen carefully and there's no sound in the corridor. We gently open the door and quickly step into the corridor and break into a run for the pools. Unfortunately we bounce straight off a very fierce looking Samed.


	7. Chapter 7

Part 7:

Samed grabs our hair in each hand and frog marches us back to the pools.

"You were told to stay here. I will not have any disobedience in the harem, so you must be punished" he growls.

These are the first words he's spoken to us and both Rebecca and I are more than a little afraid. Rebecca is near to tears. The noise has woken several of the girls who come to investigate. Clarissa and Dolley are about to run to our side but Samed commands them to stay where they are. Wisely they do as they're told.

Samed pulls out a thin cane from under his robe and clearly intends to use it on us.

"The punishment for disobedience in the harem is six strokes of the cane. However, as you have not completed your formal entry into the harem yet your punishment will be reduced to only one stroke each."

Tears are now flowing down Rebecca's face but she bravely stands up straight to hear her punishment.

"Please don't punish Rebecca", I plead, "She's our youngest and doesn't fully understand our situation. She'll promise to behave in future."

Rebecca quickly takes the hint and nods several times. Samed looks at us both and thinks for a moment.

"Under the rules of the harem you may offer to take another's punishment. If you agree to take Rebecca's punishment for her, then she will not suffer this time."

I agree and he signals to Clarissa and Dolley to take Rebecca aside.

I don't feel like breakfast this morning. I stay in the pool, which helps ease the pain. Samed has ordered the girls to leave me to suffer alone, but that doesn't stop several from making silent gestures to check I'm alright. I've endured much much worse and I reassure them I'll be fine. That is once the soles of my feet stop stinging like hell.

After breakfast A'isha has started the process of taking our names and bringing us formally into the harem. Each girl is picked at random and taken to a side room where A'isha is waiting. After 10 minutes or so the next girl is called. Once taken into the room the girl doesn't return so we have no idea what happens in there. Apparently I'm to be last, which is as well as I'm not looking forward to trying to walk.

There are still a dozen of us left by the pools when a halt is called for a while. A'isha doesn't return but Samed brings in food for us. He walks over to me and gently lifts me from the pool, hands me a towel, and places me on a cushion by a table.

"I trust you have learned your lesson and I will never need to cane you again", he says in a surprisingly kind voice. I nod quickly and sincerely hope that that will be true.

It is mid afternoon and I'm the last one by the pools. I've put on my clothes for the first time since daybreak. I've tried walking around and I can now manage a slow walk unaided, although my feet still sting. At last I'm guided through to the side room where I find A'isha sitting at a desk busy writing notes. Two older women are standing to one side and Mustafa is waiting by a curtained archway. That must be the exit through which the other girls have gone.

"We will make this as quick as we can and then you can join the rest of your friends. I shall ask you a few questions and Abal and Jamilah here will give you a physical examination. Then I will explain the rules of this house and tell you what is to become of you. You may ask questions if you wish. Firstly your name and age?"

"Jacky Faber. I'm 15."

"Who are your parents and where do they live."

"I'm an orphan. I was taken in by the Lawson Peabody School for Young Girls in Boston, America". Not the complete truth but I'm wary of giving too much away.

"What skills do you have? Can you read and write?"

"Only what I've been taught at school. I can read and write reasonably well. I've done some singing and dancing to earn a few coppers."

"Anything else?"

"No, ma'am" I say in my best humble servant tone of voice.


	8. Chapter 8

Part 8:

"Let's try that again, Jacky", she sighs.

She reaches over her desk and hands me a copy of the English Admiralty's notice of a reward for my hide. Those damn things must be everywhere. It describes my features right down to my distinctive blue tattoo, which is in open view at the top of my trousers.

"So you're going to sell me to those bastards and get your reward" I snap.

A'isha finds my outburst amusing.

"For a measly two hundred and fifty pounds. Oh no, my dear, the value your skills must be worth far more than that."

I shrug in resignation and give A'isha a quick breakdown of my various talents and skills. She writes them all in her book.

"Now, Jacky, go over to Abal and Jamilah there and let them examine you. I'm afraid they must check whether or not you are a virgin, but they will do it as gently as possible."

The examination takes only a couple of minutes and the women seem satisfied.

"Please sit down over there Jacky and listen carefully. If anything I say is unclear you may ask

any question you like. Once you leave this room, however, you formally enter the harem as the slave Zakiyah in my brother's household and are bound by the rules I'm about to describe."

So I'm not even allowed to keep my own name. I nod and pay attention.

"Firstly, this building is the harem and is the sleeping quarters for all the women living in the house, both slave and free. Most of the rules of the household are for your protection and well-being and apply to everyone here, including me.

"You may now go anywhere within the harem and the private gardens in the atrium, dressed, or not, as you like. However you must never ever go into the courtyard and beyond without wearing the djellaba you'll be given shortly. For the time being, you must let Samed or Mustafa know if you need to leave the harem and for how long. You must return by the stated time or send word if you are delayed.

"You may enter the building opposite which are the kitchens and living rooms, but the soldiers' barracks at the rear are strictly out of bounds. You may only enter the central building, which are the men's sleeping quarters and where my brother conducts business, if ordered, and even then only in the company of Samed or Mustafa. Similarly, all women in this household may only go outside the main walls with my brother's permission and with an escort. "

A'isha quickly tell me the rest of the household rules which cover routine matters such as cleanliness, work and meal times and a code of conduct within the harem. Any transgression will result in six strokes of the cane for minor infractions, and death for more serious crimes such as trying to escape.

To my surprise she details my legal rights as well. I hadn't for a moment imagined I had any rights, but it seems that Hassan is required to ensure I am fed and clothed, and any medical needs attended to. I didn't think until afterwards she hadn't told me how, if my rights were abused, I will be able to complain to anyone who'd care.

She also detailed the circumstances under which I would be granted my freedom, although none of those seem likely to happen any-time soon.

Finally she gives me some paper and a pen and tells me I must write a letter to whomever I wish saying that my freedom may be gained by paying a ransom in gold equivalent to eight hundred English pounds within six months from today. The intermediary who would arrange negotiations for payment of the ransom would be a certain Harold Fotherington, a marginally respectable businessman engaged in such work, and who I briefly saw on the _Bloodhound_ escorting Elspeth to freedom.

It doesn't surprise me that Hassan has no need for the 30 American school girls his half-brother acquired, but I'm relieved he's decided to try and ransom us rather than sell us in the slave markets straight away. If nothing else, it will keep us together for a while longer.

"Why can't keep my own name. I don't like being given a slave name?"

"Zakiyah isn't given to you because you are a slave. It's a name to protect your real identity from those outside the harem. In time you may be set free, and you then have the choice of telling those outside our private world as much, or as little, about your life here as you choose."

"Hmm … And what duties am I to perform" I ask.

"That is for my brother to decide and you'll be told in the next few days."

I have no further questions for the moment and A'isha signals Mustafa to escort me to my quarters where I am apparently to share a room with an insatiable odalisque named Miri.


	9. Chapter 9

Part 9:

Wadi Halaf, Morocco; 22 September 1806

And so I sit here in the pleasant cool of the moonlit night looking out of my room onto the harem's gardens below, just as I'd done when I first arrived here nearly three months ago. As then, I'm alone in my room, but in much different circumstances. On that occasion I had only just met Miri, a girl my age from Tahiti in the South Seas. That night she had been called to Hassan's room, not for the first time, and she could hardly contain her excitement.

Tonight I'm alone and holding Amy Trevelyne's letter which arrived on the same ship that will be taking the first five of the Lawson Peabody girls to be freed back to Boston. As I begin to lose the company of my friends from the Lawson Peabody School for Young Gilrs, I find I have new friends from those who were here when we arrived.

Hassan's twin sister, A'isha, is like a big sister to me and we share such a lot. Hassan has finally found her a man she is willing to take as a husband, and they are to be married early next year. It is no secret that I'm being groomed to replace her as administrator of this household. Unfortunately it means my value will increase and the ransom demanded for my freedom that much higher.

Since Miri's release last month, my two room mates are Jasmina and Sally. Jasmina is about 18 years old, although she doesn't know for sure herself. She's from a poor Syrian family who sold her into slavery six years ago to provide food for her younger brothers. Jasmina is expecting Hassan's child in about four months and is no longer the selfish cow she was when we first arrived. The birth of a child will secure her place here, as by law she cannot be parted from her child.

As for Sally; what a remarkable young woman she is turning into. Most girls would fall apart on hearing her father refuses to pay her ransom because he "isn't going to pay for soiled goods". Not Sally Anderson. Realising she won't going back to Boston she has set about making the best of her life here. Like a she-wolf on the hunt she has set about her prey. At first we all thought her attempts at attracting Hassan's attention were amusing, although I have to admit she skilfully used all the alluring techniques we've been trained in here.

Jasmina was jealous when Sally was called to Hassan's room the other evening. Normally a girl will spend only a few hours there when summoned for the first time, mainly in conversation and light petting. Sally didn't return until morning, her reputation within the harem much enhanced. She proudly wears the small jewels that Hassan sent her the following day – a signal he was well pleased with her company.

It was only later she confided in me that she had lost her nerve beyond the kissing and light touching. Hassan was gentle enough to sense she was not quite ready and did not take what was not freely given. He allowed her to stay the night so her standing inside the harem would be increased.

My daily routine consists a bathe in the pools before breakfast followed by a few hours work in the office helping Hassan with his business dealings. My knowledge of ships is a skill much in demand, and in return I have learned a lot about trading and running a shipping business. His eye for a good deal and his willingness to take a chance means he and I are very much alike. We would be formidable as business partners, but that is not our relationship.

A'isha, Abal or Jamilah then spend time teaching us Arabic, which I am now reasonably fluent in. We are also taught many things of a more intimate nature, and we've found over time we have become much more relaxed and open about such things. I spend the rest of the afternoons either painting or dancing.

My painting skills have been used towards restoring some of the faded murals in the corridor. Sally has helped and not only does she no longer blush at the scenes depicted, but actually mimics the women in the pictures. As far as I know she's the only one to have noticed that many of the women in the restored murals now sport a small blue tattoo.

Dancing is my biggest joy. Abal has been our dancing instructor and we've been taught both traditional dances and the more exotic dances used to entertain men. At first I was worried about my under-developed body and thought myself too boyish in appearance to be much good at exotic dancing. Abal helped me to understand that my body is only the wrapping for the beautiful being inside and that my dancing would entice my audience to look past my body and glimpse the inner me.

And that is how I have come to view my slavery. Hassan may own the wrapper called Zakiyah, but the inside is the real Jacky Faber and is still free. This is my one ongoing act of rebellion and I have always refused to acknowledge Hassan as my "master". While Hassan permits me this act of rebellion in private, I must always be careful not to do so in the presence of others.

I finger the light metal collar around my neck, the small inscription identifying me as Hassan's property. In truth I don't notice its weight any more and have become used to it as my constant companion. Its presence doesn't bother me as much as I first thought it would. In some cultures it might pass for an unusual type of jewellery.

Hassan has ordered collars placed on all six of us in the dancing troupe, Clarissa, Sally, Chrissy, Ruth, Julia and I, to signal that we are off limits to others. Simple removable collars would be no good in the dark and crowded gatherings at which we may be expected to dance, as an unscrupulous man could remove the collar and claim the girl wasn't wearing one. Abal tells me that uncollared girls are expected to provide more than dancing in the way of entertainment. As it is we will always have to be careful of roving hands.

I return to Amy's letter and read her news again ….


	10. Chapter 10

Part 10:

From: Miss Amy Trevelyne  
Dovecote Farm, Quincy,  
Massachusetts, America

To: Miss Zakiyah Nassar,  
c/- Mr. Harold Fotherington  
Barbarossa Bazar, Salé,  
Morocco

16 August 1806

My dearest friend Zakiyah,

Oh what joy to receive your letter and hear you are alive and well. As requested I will use the name you have told me to use in order to protect your identity.

We have all been so excited since Elspeth's return from Morocco with news of your safe arrival there. You must be very proud of brave Elspeth, risking so much to make her escape. She has been the toast of Boston since her return. At the moment she is helping the authorities track down those responsible for your kidnapping and she and her father are in New York.

Anyway, let me tell you what is being done to secure your freedom. Since all your ransom letters arrived Higgins and Ezra have been working tirelessly in organising the raising of your ransoms. Some parents have decided to do things by themselves, so our efforts have become a bit muddled and uncoordinated. Higgins is also worried that as some of the girls return, their parents will stop actively supporting our efforts to free the remaining girls. I tell you this so that you may be prepared should we not be able to free you all within the six months stated in your ransom letters. Please never doubt our continuing efforts to free you.

Clarissa's father is making a lot of noise in government circles to organise a military expedition to Morocco to rescue you. So far he hasn't been able to gain much support as various influential politicians have financial interests in North Africa they don't want upsetting. He is also being a bit hypocritical given his views on slavery.

Jaimy arrived in Boston soon after your kidnapping. As soon as he heard from Elspeth that you had landed in Salé, he and Randall promptly found a merchant ship heading for North Africa and signed on as crew. Higgins pleaded with them to wait until we had more information so a properly planned mission could be made, but they wouldn't listen. I fear they have headed off to your direction without any idea what they're going to do when they get there. As Higgins put it, noble but foolish. All they know is that you've landed in Salé and a Harold Fotherington of an unknown address may be able to help. If they had waited a week the letter about your ransom would have given them his address. I presume this is the same Harold Fotherington who is receiving your letters so there is at least a chance if they find him they will be able to trace you. Davy was going to join them but he listened to Higgins' advice and is instead working to earn some money to help free Annie.

Ezra has asked me to tell you of a strange thing that happened last week, as it may be connected with your situation. He and Higgins have accepted an offer on your behalf from an undisclosed merchant in Morocco to ship spices into America. The spices are being shipped across the Atlantic by the Moroccan merchant and transferred at a secret location onto the _Morning Star_ to land in Boston. Apparently doing this avoids certain taxes so both parties gain by the arrangement. Your shipping company is now doing rather well as a result so it shouldn't take long to raise your ransom should you wish to change your mind. Ezra will, of course, respect your wishes and not try to ransom you while you feel safer remaining there.

On that subject, Higgins warns that the party seeking your whereabouts is as active as ever and may have made a connection with your disappearance from Boston and the kidnapping. Please take care.

Mistress Pimm has weathered the storm of public outrage for her supposed involvement in your kidnapping. She is living at the school, although no lessons have been taught since your disappearance. I'm told the ransoms for Lissette, Connie, Caroline, Priscilla and Abigail are being sent on the same ship as this letter, and I'm confident more will follow soon. Once the girls start returning, Mistress Pimm says she will reopen the school. I do hope so, it has been so lonely here without you. I mustn't complain though as your situation is far worse than mine. I can't imagine being able to live as a slave at the mercy of a strange man.

If you are allowed to send letters please tell me of your life there so I can write another book. As before, whatever money I can raise from my humble writings will go to the London Home for Little Wanderers. Higgins is keeping in touch with your grandfather who has promised to let us know if he hears from you. I will of course write to him as soon as I finish this letter.

The comings and goings in Boston since your kidnapping are so trivial in comparison to your plight so I won't bore you with such minor details, other than to say all your friends and acquaintances have not forgotten you and in their own way work for your freedom.

Your very dear friend,

Amy


	11. Chapter 11

Part 11:

From: Zakiyah Nassar,  
Wadi Halaf, Salé,  
Morocco

To: Miss Amy Trevelyne,  
Dovecote Farm,  
Quincy,  
Massachusetts, America

23 September 1806

My dearest friend Amy,

I can't begin to tell you how excited I was to receive your letter. Your news about the efforts being made in Boston to free us has given everyone here renewed hope. The thought of more ransoms being paid soon has eased the worry that many of the girls were starting to have about their future. In my case the gold Hassan demands for my freedom is far too much, which means I must continue as I am for the immediate future.

All the girls here are well and in good spirits. Despite the loss of our freedom and the strict rules under which we must live, we are comfortable and treated kindly. We are made to continue our learning, although not always in subjects Mistress Pimm would approve. In their own way A'isha, Jamilah and Abal are turning us into graceful and educated young women.

As you mention in your letter, the ransoms for Lissette, Connie, Caroline, Priscilla and Abigail have been paid and they will be freed tomorrow. Connie will be carrying this letter to you. A'isha tells me they are returning to America on the same ship that brought your letter.

Since our location will no longer be secret, I can now tell you that we live in a beautiful house built inside an old fort called Wadi Halaf. It is owned by Hassan Nassar, and he is the man who owns us after his brothers purchased us from that vile Captain Blodgett and Sin-Kay. The harem we live in houses fifty women although not all are slaves. The building is a magnificent old structure which forms part of a larger complex. We have three beautiful pools to swim in each day and plenty of space to relax when we are allowed the time. In the centre of the harem is a large sunken garden which has shady trees to protect us from the hot sun.

Our sleeping area is divided into dormitories, each with accommodation for ten girls. The corners of the dormitories are divided into alcoves each large enough for two or three beds. In the centre of our dormitory are cushions and chairs so we can sit and talk in the evenings. Each dormitory opens out onto the veranda surrounding the sunken garden and is also connected to its neighbours by a short internal corridor. Off each of these corridors are wash basins and other necessary facilities.

I still get to do some dancing as part of a troupe of six, including … can you believe it … Clarissa! So far we have only been allowed to dance inside the harem at Wadi Halaf, but now we are proficient, Hassan will soon require us to dance at local feasts and weddings. Abal also warns us we may be required to dance for Hassan's business guests before long.

In preparation for such an event, Jamilah has taught us an Arabic phrase which we may use if we find someone taking liberties. It translates into English as "Take your hand off my shoulder" to which we can add any one of a number of Arabic terms which range from the polite "kind sir" to the extremely rude "infidel's dog". Ruth asked what we are to say if it is some other part of our body that is being handled, and Jamilah told us that we are to use the phrase regardless of where we are touched or with what.

Since we have been here three months now we must use Arabic when talking, even among ourselves. Until recently we've been allowed to use English for nearly everything, and only use our limited Arabic when having a conversation with one of the locals who doesn't speak English. Now that has been changed and my letters to you are the only time I may use English.

While I admire Jaimy and Randall for coming to our rescue, I do worry that they will only get into trouble. Even if they find where we are, Wadi Halaf is well guarded. Hassan may treat us with respect, but we are under no illusion that if we try to escape we will be killed.

Last week I was allowed out of Wadi Halaf for the first time since we arrived; under Hassan's watchful eye, of course. It seems he's impressed with my help in running his shipping business, and he wants me to help in his warehouse in Salé once a fortnight.

It is getting late and Connie and the others will be leaving first thing in the morning, so I must finish here. Please give my love and thanks to Ezra and Higgins, and of course to you for your unwavering efforts on our behalf.

With love from your Moroccan odalisque.

Zakiyah


	12. Chapter 12

Part 12:

Wadi Halaf, 8 October 1806

Hassan took me into Salé to see Lissette, Connie, Caroline, Priscilla and Abigail safely on their way back to Boston, and for me to work at his warehouse for the day. In the afternoon I was allowed an escorted walk through the bazaar named after one of Salé's most notorious pirate citizens, Oruç Barbarossa. It is the bazaar where Harold Fotherington, the man acting as an intermediary for the girls' ransoms, has his office. He's an eccentric Englishman in his forties who works out of a grubby little room at the top of some stairs leading straight from the street. As I was passing the building housing his office I noticed two familiar faces hiding by a nearby market stall. Randall and Jaimy! My heart missed a beat when I saw them. They recognised me despite my djellaba covering all but my face.

My escort was Hazar, one of the free women who look after Hassan's small house in Salé, which Hassan sometimes uses if he needs to stay overnight. She is a nice woman but is often distracted by the many stalls of fine clothes and trinkets in the bazaar. I easily managed to give her the slip and soon caught up with Jaimy and Randall. We quickly travelled to the room they were renting a few streets away. After the heartfelt joy at our reunion we discussed how we were going to escape.

It was then I realised they had no idea what to do. I was risking my life by escaping; probably theirs too. Reluctantly I suggested I had better return to Hassan while they came up with a proper plan of escape. I didn't like going back, but we would almost certainly have been caught if we continued. Perhaps next time I'm in Salé they'll be ready with a plan.

I knew my way around that part of Salé so could easily return to the warehouse by the rooftops and slip in through the rear window. I waited until the warehouse staff were busy and returned to the desk I normally sit at and acted as though I'd been there for some time. Sometime later Hazar came to the warehouse, deeply worried about having to explain to Hassan how she had lost me. She was so relieved to see me there she didn't question my explanation that I had lost her in the crowd and had dutifully come straight back to the warehouse alone.

Normally we would return to Wadi Halaf the same evening but the sporadic raids by the desert Berbers are moving towards Salé again and travel at night between Salé and Wadi Halaf is risky at the moment.

Before we could return to Wadi Halaf the next morning, the _Zumorrod_, Hassan's beautiful little two-masted schooner, docked in Salé and he suddenly decided to take a short trip north to Tangier. Much to my surprise he invited me to accompany him. More likely he didn't trust me out of his sight for more than a few hours.

So once again I was on a ship at sea, although the coast was only just over the horizon. The _Zumorrod_, whose name means _Emerald_ in English, is a small trading vessel which regularly sails between the ports of Morocco. Being a schooner she only needs a small crew as the sails can normally be handled from the deck. I did manage a quick climb up the stays to the top of the mainmast though, much to the alarm of the crew. I slept in a hammock for the first time in ages and it felt strange after the soft mattress in my alcove in the harem. It's hard to believe I once found a hammock comfy; or that Jaimy and I had to share one on the _Dolphin_.

The trip was very exciting, although I was disappointed when I wasn't allowed off the ship at Tangier. I've already started pleading with Hassan to allow me another trip someday.

No sooner had I returned to Wadi Halaf when I was told the six of us in the dancing troupe were required to dance for the guests at party at a nearby palace the following night. The party wasn't nearly as bad as I had feared. It was only marginally more boisterous than some of the taverns I've danced at in Boston and elsewhere. Our costumes were really colourful, if somewhat revealing. Hassan was pleased with us and told us we can expect regular engagements.

Unfortunately the sleeping arrangements at the palace left a lot to be desired as the six of us had to share three beds. Apparently the palace's Chief Eunuch wasn't informed that Hassan had put collars on us, so we were off limits to the guests.

Back at Wadi Halaf, Jasmina finally got her wish for her own sleeping area on the grounds she is pregnant. Which means Annie has joined Sally and I in our alcove in the harem. Annie seems to be handling our captivity reasonably well, but like the rest of the girls, longs for her freedom. There are times when she is homesick and feels very dejected. Although the ransom asked for her is much smaller than for most of us, she doesn't come from a wealthy family like many of the other girls. In my ransom demand letter I asked Ezra to use my meagre funds to help free some of the girls from poorer families rather than pay the exorbitant price for my freedom.

Yesterday morning young Rebecca Adams couldn't resist going where she shouldn't. She was caught and paid the price of her folly with six strokes of Samed's cane on the soles of her poor feet. She took her punishment bravely though, even if she couldn't walk for the rest of the day. I know from my experience on the day we arrived how painful a feet caning is. But only our feet can be caned as Hassan's rules prohibit a eunuch from visibly marking a girl when administering harem justice.

As the days roll into weeks here in Morocco we are gradually becoming accustomed to the way of life here. It is very different to anything any of us have been used to, but the rules and consequences of breaking them are not too different from school, and most certainly less severe than those of the British Navy. But we are nevertheless slaves, and that casts a shadow over everything around us.

"What happens to those of us left here when the six months for payment of our ransom runs out in December?" asks Annie.

"I don't know," is all I can answer. I've tried to find out from A'isha, but she can't or won't say.


	13. Chapter 13

Part 13:

Wadi Halaf, 17 October 1806

I have spent most of the last week in the company of Abal and Jamilah practising a special dance routine I had to perform last night. It was the most frightening, yet exhilarating, evening of my life here so far.

The girls of the dancing troupe had known for over a week that Hassan was planning a business gathering here at Wadi Halaf and we were to perform in the evening. We had started practising some routines we hadn't tried before. A'isha halted our practise one afternoon to tell us that I would be performing alone. We all protested loudly as we have always performed well as a group, and although these gatherings are a bit rowdy, they are tremendous fun. A'isha refused to hear our complaints and dismissed the other girls so she could talk to me alone. It was then that she told me what I didn't want to hear.

Our dancing was achieving a certain notoriety, and tales of a European dancer with an unusual blue tattoo on her hip had started to circulate around Salé. It was not surprising that these tales had found their way to an English agent. Consequently the upcoming gathering was to include three English naval officers as special guests of Hassan's half brother, Rashid. Hassan had a strong suspicion one of the officers would be from naval intelligence. This called for a daring plan to quash, for once and for all, any connection between me and the wanted pirate. The plan was not without risk, notably to myself, and if it didn't work Hassan would have a difficult time refusing to sell me to them given the terms of the current peace treaty between England and the Barbary States.

It was A'isha who suggested a solo performance as she thought the six of us could easily be linked to the kidnapping of Boston schoolgirls, among whom is believed to be the person the English seek. Jamilah suggested tattooing another girl who clearly wasn't me, but I refused to place another girl in danger and pointed out that none of the other girls in our troupe matched my appearance and wouldn't fool anyone who had seen us dance before. The officers would presumably have local guides who may well have seen me before.

I diligently practised my routine and felt as ready as I was ever going to be for my performance. I was really surprised at the gorgeous costume I was to wear. When we dance as a troupe we wear beautifully coloured silks and gowns but with little make-up, jewellery or adornments. That night I wore my familiar top and silk trousers which reveals as much of my belly as is decent, and puts my tattoo in plain view. Added to my costume for this performance were tassels on my top from which hung small coins which jangled when I swayed my chest. A ruby was placed in belly button and Jamilah showed my how to make sure it stayed there while I danced. Over the top of my skirt was a jewel studded satin belt which hung over my hips. From the belt hung a small gold plate which tantalized the audience, making them believe they could glimpse my private parts as the plate swung to the motion of my dance.

On my arms, wrists and ankles I wore bangles, bracelets and anklets all fitted with tiny metal discs which tinkled as I moved. To my fingers were added _zills_, tiny little cymbals which I tap together as I dance. The whole effect made me sound like a soft musical instrument as I moved; which was important, as I would be dancing without any musical accompaniment. A small amount of a heady perfume was dabbed behind my ears and Kohl was added around my eyes to enhance my appearance as the sultry Moroccan slave girl with fair hair. When the other girls saw me all dressed up they were green with envy.

The evening started off well enough. Abal had devised an entrance where I was brought into the room wearing a pirate's coat and hat with my hands and legs locked in shackles. I was introduced to the audience as the evil pirate Jacky Faber who had been captured by Hassan, a brave merchant of Salé, and was now forced to dance and entertain her captor for the rest of her days. This was far too close to reality for my liking but it was all part of the plan: present the truth in an absurd way and no-one will believe it. My coat, hat and shackles were removed and I started my dance routine.

My dancing was a great success and I was glistening with sweat when I was called over to where Hassan and the English officers were sat. I knew the plan was for Hassan to tell them my mother was an English slave of one of his uncles and I was born here in Morocco. For his amusement, and because of my likeness to the pirate in question, he had me tattooed and I now play the part of the captured girl pirate on the dance floor and in his bed. This story seemed to convince all but one of the officers. The doubter was a rough looking man with a uniform a little too shabby for the captain's rank it displayed. He was undoubtedly the naval intelligence officer who would be the sole judge of tonight's charade.

He spoke fluent Arabic, which confirmed my suspicion, and he called me over. I did as I was told and as soon as I was close enough, he reached under the gold plate hanging from my belt and grabbed me where no decent man ever should. I felt like reciprocating his rudeness with a sharp movement of my knee but realised in time that this was a test. I looked at Hassan and saw he was livid. I may be his slave but an insult to me without his permission was regarded as an insult to his family. I knew it would only take a small signal to Samed, who was standing nearby, and this man's head would be quickly parted from his shoulders. But that would mean we would lose our game.

"A hundred camels for your daughter," the disgusting man said to Hassan. His Arabic was perfect but I had no idea what he was talking about. Hassan didn't have a daughter, and even if he did why would this man think he'd trade her for camels. Before Hassan could answer one of the other officers asked the captain in English if he thought I was the real Jacky Faber. He thought for a moment and finally removed his hand. I jumped back out of reach and went to kneel besides Hassan, adopting a pose with upturned hands on my parted knees, indicating a meek slave girl awaiting her master's command.

"No, the Jacky Faber I've been told about is a scrawny kid who would never let me hold her like that. This ones got too much meat on her, and that dance she performed must have taken years to perfect. She can't be our girl. Our host is telling the truth; she's just some pretty slave girl he's dressing up for his pleasure. This has been a fool's errand. Let's just enjoy the rest of the evening."

For the officers the evening's remaining entertainment were women hired from a brothel in Salé. For me it was a well deserved rest in the pools before heading for my alcove and bed. To my surprise A'isha joined me in the pools and I took the opportunity to ask her about the puzzling question that horrid man had asked. She burst out laughing and told me. Oh!

It seems my performance on the dance floor was a huge success. All six of us are now practising solo routines wearing elaborate costumes. Abal has promised to teach us the sensual _dance of the seven veils_.


	14. Chapter 14

Part 14:

Wadi Halaf, 31 October 1806

How quickly my fortunes have declined. Three days ago I was working in the warehouse and forgot my lowly status. I spoke out of turn to Hassan in front of some merchants. I said something I would not dare say if I was thinking straight. Hassan was furious and ordered me taken away.

I was returned to Wadi Halaf that evening in shackles. No sooner had we arrived than I was locked in a small store room for an hour. Despite the late hour, the whole harem was gathered in the large room by the pools to witness my punishment. Six strokes of the cane on the soles of my feet. I was then carried back to the store room and locked in with only a pitcher of water and a small loaf of bread. I cried myself to sleep.

The pain from my feet woke me several times during the night, but by dawn I could walk the few paces the size of the room allowed. While it is unusual to keep a girl locked up once punishment is delivered, I didn't think more of it. My complacency was shattered when Samed entered early next morning and told me to remove my clothes and put on the djellaba made of rough cloth he was carrying. He then turned me around and bound my wrists behind me. It was then that I realised my punishment was far from over.

Without a chance to say goodbye to anyone I was bundled away and taken into Salé. Four hours later I was sat weeping on a dirty smelly street with six other dejected souls in front of a slave dealer's house. The dealer sat at an open window overlooking his wares sitting on a worn carpet laid out on the street just below him. I kept my hood up to keep my face from burning in the late morning sun. The street was crowded with people, although only a few paid us any attention. It would have been easy to run off into the crowd but I had nowhere to go, and death would be the penalty for a failed escape attempt.

Of the seven of us sat on the carpet, the two Arab women in their twenties attracted the most interest from would be buyers. Each time a customer showed an interest in either woman the dealer would have her remove her clothes and allow the man to examine her closely. The half starved woman with a child about 9 months old attracted no interest, nor did the the two injured men, one of whom looked as though he may depart this world at any minute. I was only required to undergo the degrading experience once, for a Nubian boy who was about my age. The boy had the same sort of evil look in his eye as Sin-Kay. He took his time giving me a thorough examination. While I was standing there I suddenly noticed Jaimy and Randall in the crowd. My humiliation was complete; I wished the earth would swallow me up.

The boy decided to wait until I was on the auction block rather than make an offer immediately, so I was allowed to dress and sit down. Market hours ended at noon, and we were all returned to the dealer's compound for the rest of the day. That night, about midnight, I heard a noise that woke me. Suddenly I saw two shadows looming over me and I nearly cried out in fright. Fortunately I realised in time the two shadows belonged to Jaimy and Randall. A rescue!

The slave dealer must have been overly confident in the docility of his slaves because his compound security was poor. The shackles on my ankles were so old and worn that Jaimy easily undid the lock and freed me from the chain linking me to my fellow slaves. A guard stood at the gate but parts of the compound wall were out of his sight.

In less than a minute the three of us were over the wall and running along the street. I was now risking my life, and they their freedom. Capture could mean my execution and their condemnation to the oars of a slave galley. We stopped in a dark alley and I took a moment to give my two heroes a huge hug and a kiss each. If either had been alone I would have showed my appreciation more passionately, but it wasn't the time or place to trigger a bout of male rivalry. Unlike our previous meeting in Salé they had a plan this time. As we ran through the shadows they told me the old woman who cleaned in Hassan's office in Salé had found them and told them of my fate. They had been busy preparing an escape plan, waiting for the right time, and now they were putting it in to action.

They hurried me across the city to a house near the docks. It was approaching dawn by now and we didn't want witnesses to our movements. Three Europeans running around the streets after dawn would attract unwanted attention. Randall's coded knock gained us entry to the house. This was the point the escape plan fell apart. The man who admitted us to the house was horrified I was a girl. Jaimy and Randall had omitted that apparently essential piece of information when arranging our escape. What's more, when the man saw my collar and the inscription on it he looked panic stricken.

The slave dealer had decided not to remove my collar as it indicated I came from one of the very best harems in the region and so would increase my value on the auction block. But the collar indicated I was still Hassan's property, not the dealer's, so he had taken a foolish risk.

An hour of arguing did nothing to persuade the man to find us a ship to take us to freedom, and he clearly wanted us out of his house. In the end I took charge and extracted a promise from the man to hand me over to Hassan rather than the slave dealer, whom we had so far refused to name. He agreed and I thanked Jaimy and Randall for their gallant efforts and to leave and save themselves. They were very reluctant to do so but eventually saw the hopelessness of our situation. They nevertheless promised to try again as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

So today I am back at Wadi Halaf. I was taking a huge risk as Hassan may simply have returned me to the dealer, who would likely take his anger out on me most cruelly. But Hassan was in a better mood and even slightly relieved by my reappearance. The girls in the harem had not accepted my removal quietly and even the threat of Samed's cane did nothing to quell the near riot. Hassan accepted my apology for the behaviour that caused my disgrace and agreed I had not tried to escape from him, but in fact had voluntarily returned to him.

So I'm once again back in his harem, but not totally without punishment. In exchange for Hassan settling matters with the slave dealer I am confined to Wadi Halaf. No more dancing engagements outside these walls. No more trips into Salé.


	15. Chapter 15

Part 15:

Wadi Halaf, 17 November 1806

Ever since our journey to Tangier on the _Zumorrod_, Hassan has been troubled by the ever growing threat of civil war in Morocco. The independent tribes to the south are at odds with the Sultan of Morocco. The Bou Regreg, the great river flowing north-west from the Atlas mountains to the Atlantic ocean at Salé, marks the border between the two factions. This means our home at Wadi Halaf on the frontier.

Nearly two hundred years ago the outer walls of this house were a fort guarding the borders of Salé; and Wadi Halaf has now been prepared for that use again. The normal garrison of fifteen soldiers guarding the house had swelled to more than eighty, and our store rooms filled with six months of supplies. While we have tried to keep to our normal routines everyone has been tense. For the last two weeks it has been too dangerous to make the journey to Salé without a large escort.

This morning we are just finishing breakfast when an alarm is raised by the sentry at the gate. Two men are seen shouting and waving as they run towards Wadi Halaf. Hassan allows them to enter and ten minutes later I am summoned to the meeting hall on the opposite side of the complex from the harem. To my utter surprise the two men turn out to be Jaimy and Randall. After confirming their identity I am dismissed, as whatever is to be discussed is apparently not for a woman's ears.

Whatever they talked about causes a lot of activity. The soldiers are all mustered and go to their stations on the walls. All the women are gathered in the harem where Samed and Mustafa stand in full armour by the door. It's the first time I've seen either man armed and both carry wicked looking scimitars, the broad blade curved swords favoured in these parts. I seek out A'isha to ask what is going on but she knows little more than I. Apparently Jaimy and Randall have been watching the house, I presume in the hope of making a rescue attempt, when they spotted a column of several hundred mounted Berber approaching from the river. It is the largest raiding party seen this side of the river for years.

Barely ten minutes later shots ring out and a fierce battle follows over the next two hours. We are kept in the harem and have no idea what is happening. I ask A'isha why Samed and Mustafa remain with us rather than join the battle. I wish I hadn't said anything. I now understood that their role is not only to guard us, but if the battle seems lost, their duty is to slit our throats rather than leave us to be ravished by our captors.

At midday there is a lull in the fighting. Traditionally midday is prayer time, so presumably each side has decided to call a temporary truce. Hassan enters the harem, the only man other than the two eunuchs permitted to do so. He looks every bit the warrior, wearing two pistols, a scimitar and two knives. He tells us that the battle is not going well; over half our soldiers have been killed or wounded, and the last attempt by the Berber to scale the walls has only narrowly been beaten off. He gives us all a choice. We may join the battle, either to fight or to tend the wounded, or we can stay safely behind the strong walls of the harem and await our fate.

As having our throats slit doesn't appeal to any of the Lawson Peabody girls, we choose to help in the fight. Hassan has apparently anticipated this decision as he promptly hands me my sword, Persephone, which I haven't seen since our failed attempt to escape the _Bloodhound_. Clarissa, Dolley, Helen, Rebecca, the four Dianas and I chose to fight and we are escorted to the well equiped armoury to select weapons. The other girls are taken to the meeting hall where the wounded lay.

I choose a pistol and a knife which I tuck into the belt of my djellaba. The Dianas: Christine, Hermione, Minerva and Rose, find a selection of short bows, and each choose one to their liking, along with a quiver of arrows and a knife. Clarissa, Helen and Dolley each choose short barrelled muskets and Rebecca a quarter staff. Rebecca's practise swings made it clear she has received some training in how to use the staff.

As we leave the armoury I see Hassan issuing orders to his men. Randall is standing besides him looking a little dazed. I remember that this must be Randall's first real battle. I approach and ask how he is and where Jaimy is at the moment. He tells me he is all right but Jaimy is in the meeting hall with a musket ball in his shoulder. He had been injured fending off the last attempt by the Berber to scale the walls. I am tempted to run to him, but realise my duty lies elsewhere. One of the girls will attend to Jaimy's wound.

I ask Hassan why he isn't using the two cannon mounted on the towers either side of the gate. He tells me they haven't been fired in decades and, even if they were in a fit state to be used, he doesn't have any men who know how to load and fire one. But I know how. Ten minutes later Mustafa, Helen, Rebecca and I are up on one of the towers with powder and shot for the one cannon we dare load and fire. The other cannon is badly corroded and would probably explode in our faces if we tried to fire it. The two cannon are ancient pieces and, judging by the large ornate golden dragons moulded on the barrels, are of Chinese origin.

The barrel is worn, so estimating how much powder to use is guess work. The ball doesn't fit the barrel as snugly as it should so the range will be shorter. Better compensate with a bit more powder. I prime the touch hole and we are ready.

Just in time as it turns out. There are at least two hundred Berber on horses and camels, charging straight towards us. They divide into two groups, one heading for us at the gate on the west wall, and the other group towards the south wall. I judge the range and call for everyone to stand well clear as I place the match on the touch hole. With an enormous roar the cannon fires and a huge plume of flame leaps from the muzzle, making it look as though the golden dragon is breathing fire.

As a weapon of destruction the ancient cannon is a total failure. The ball disintegrates as it goes through the air, landing harmlessly in a hundred pieces well short of the attacking Berber. But the Berber horses and camels think otherwise. They are not going to run towards a fire breathing dragon, so promptly turn tail and run off in all directions, despite their riders' frantic efforts to control them. With a single shot we have halted one of the two groups of attackers; at least for the moment. The golden dragon of Wadi Halaf had once more left its mark on the world.

We decide against trying to fire the cannon a second time. We think about returning to the others in the courtyard, but before we can leave our position we come under musket fire from a group of Berber on camels. We duck down behind the parapets and Mustafa and Helen ready their muskets and I my pistol.


	16. Chapter 16

Part 16:

The Berber fire is accurate and we have difficulty in getting a good aim on the riders. After three volleys we haven't hit anyone. We reload again and Mustafa takes a risk and stands up for a better aim. He pays for his mistake with his life. No fewer than three shots hit him before he falls. Helen and I fire at the mounted Berber again, and I think I hit one of the riders.

We decide we had best return to the others, but Rebecca sees the Berber have already scaled the walls and are in the courtyard below us. Hassan and the defenders have fallen back to the verandahs of the three buildings. There is no way we can cross the courtyard in safety. We are trapped.

I grab Mustafa's musket and give Rebecca my pistol. She has never fired a gun before so I don't waste time trying to teach her how to reload. I think she gets the idea how to fire it though. We stay low and hope the Berber forget we are here. They most certainly have much to worry about down below. Hassan and the defenders are putting up fierce resistance and the Berber attack seems to be wavering. I can see Clarissa and Randall standing side by side, firing their muskets.

Suddenly Rebecca screams and fires her pistol right passed my ear. The noise nearly deafens me. As I turn to see what caused her alarm I find a Berber toppling back over the parapet with blood on his chest. Rebecca has saved my life. Unfortunately the Berber is not alone and six more come streaming over the parapet. Helen and I try to aim our muskets, but the Berber are too close. I don't have time to reach for my sword before everything goes dark.

The next few hours are very uncomfortable. I'm bound hand and foot with a sack over my head and thrown across a camel's back. From the voices around me it seems Helen and Rebecca have been trussed up the same way. We are riding hard and before long I realise we are wading across a river. The Berber must be taking us back to their camp on the south side of the Bou Regreg.

More hard riding before we finally stop for a rest. It is evening when I'm taken off the camel and the sack removed from my head. I find Helen and Rebecca next to me. An old man comes towards us carrying a long chain. He locks the anklets on the chain onto our left ankles and fastens the other end to a large stake driven into the ground. Only then does he untie the ropes binding our wrists and ankles. We're not going anywhere tonight.

He leaves, but returns a short while later carrying food, water and some blankets. The other men are erecting tents for the night, but it seems we get to sleep in the open. The old man is obviously our jailer as he is the only one who comes near us. But that doesn't stop any of the other men from looking at us as they sit round their camp fire.

The heat of the day is rapidly disappearing as night falls and it starts to get very cold. We huddle together for warmth with our blankets wrapped around us. Eventually we fall asleep.

I wake just before dawn to find Helen is already awake.

"Are you alright?" I ask.

"Yes. As well as can be expected. What do you think will happen to us? … No, don't answer that. I can guess, and I'd not believe you if you told me a fairy story about how it will be. … I just hope he's young and handsome. ... It's a shame though. This is such a beautiful country."

Helen sighs as she takes in the view. I look around and have to admit the land has a certain rugged beauty … if you like sand and rocks … lots of sand and rocks.

"Well I'm a girl who like to feel the sea breeze on her face and to look at the wide open ocean. I don't think I could get used to all this heat and dust," I reply, knowing I may well have no choice in the matter.

Rebecca stirs and sits beside us. We talk quietly and provide comfort to each other. Not long after dawn our jailer returns with some breakfast.

Our routine is the same for the next two days. We ride blindfolded and bound over the back of a camel. It is a most undignified way to travel. On the third evening we find ourselves in a much larger encampment and we are placed with a group of a dozen other captive women. Most are Arab girls of about our age, although I notice a few Europeans and a couple of dark skinned Nubians. We talk with our fellow prisoners and learn that these Berber raids have been occuring all along the coast south of Salé as far as Casablanca. All of the girls with us have been taken in the last few days from villages near the main cities.

I manage to work out from the position of the stars that we have been heading south-east towards the Atlas mountains and the Berber strongholds. More than one of the girls with us deduces these raids are aimed at capturing young women, presumably to provide fresh breeding stock to the Berber tribes.

I try to get near one of the European girls, but we are kept locked in coffles and I can't get close enough to them.

The next morning we set off again, only this time we don't ride on camels, but are made to walk in our coffles of seven or eight girls with an elderly Berber holding the end of our chain to guide us. At least we aren't blindfolded any more. I'm placed with Helen in front and Rebecca behind me.

Five days later we enter a large oasis with a large lake surrounded by what was once a village. But the buildings are now ruins. From the look of them, it cannot be more than a few months since they were destroyed.

"Behold our once beautiful village," says our jailer, breaking his long silence. "Your Sultan's army killed over fifty women and children here only three months ago. It is fitting you all shall replace our lost loved ones."

So this is our destination. A barely habitable village in the middle of nowhere. My heart sinks.


	17. Chapter 17

Part 17:

The oasis of Biri Barash, 3 December 1806

We have been here for over a week and it is surprising how much progress has been made in repairing the village. Most of the houses are at least habitable and the terrible destruction caused by the Sultan's army has been largely cleared. Up on the hill to the east is the cemetery where the victims of the savage attack on this village are buried. Many of the men visit there each day to pray over their lost ones.

All the girls are kept separate from the men as we all work to clear the damage. The elderly men act as both our jailers and protectors. There have been more than a few occasions when the young men have tried to come too close; not that they lack for encouragement from many of the girls. I've noticed both Helen and Rebecca eyeing some of the young men. Well … OK … there are three or four who have caught my eye as well.

It's no secret that once the village is repaired all the captives will be shared out among the men. I've been trying to figure out a way to escape, but apart from when we are allowed to bathe in the lake, we are kept chained in our coffles. Many of the girls seem resigned to their fate, and only a few support my efforts to find a way of escaping. Maybe they are more realistic than I. Even if I found a way of getting clear of the village, I've no idea in which direction to head. Out their in the semi-desert I would not last more than a few days without food and water.

To my surprise Helen is content to accept her fate here.

"But don't you want to go back to your parents in America? What will your parents do?" I ask.

"My parents? Huh! … My father is a drunken gambler who has already lost most of our family wealth. My poor mother is helpless to stop him. Had we not been kidnapped I would have had to leave the school last July in any case. I'm like Sally Anderson, no-one is going to pay a ransom for me."

"But what about your mother?"

"She can't do anything. Did you know that A'isha told me I have more legal rights as a slave here in Morocco than a married woman in America? No; I am content to stay here in this beautiful country. If my fate is to live out my life in the shadow of those mountains, then so be it."

"But this is a dangerous country. Look at what happened to the women and children who lived here only a few months ago."

"Yes, I know. But parts of America and Europe are just as dangerous. And at least I get to live away from the threat of my father, and the confines of Wadi Halaf. You've been allowed outside the walls of our Wadi Halaf prison, but I, and most of the girls, have not tasted the same freedom you have. We may be bound by a chain on our ankles, but this is more freedom than I've experienced in months."

I reflect on what Helen says and see her point of view.

Rebecca, on the other hand, is all for making a run for it given half a chance. Unfortunately that chance doesn't seem likely any time soon. Perhaps we might get a chance when we bathe.

A few days later the village is declared ready for use and a great feast is prepared. In the evening there is plenty of singing and dancing and despite our situation I feel the urge to join in. But our jailers refuse any participation on our part. We have to content ourselves with watching from the sidelines.

Next morning is the moment of truth. All the girls are made to bathe and prepare ourselves for the choosing ceremony. I'm not happy about this, and Rebecca seems more than a little nervous. Helen, on the other hand, seems to be looking forward to it all, as do many of the other girls. More than one girl reminds me that it is customary in these parts for a girl to have her husband chosen for her.

For the benefit of the few girls like me who are unfamiliar with the customary choosing process, one of our jailers outlines the procedure. Each man will come forward in turn in some predetermined order and approach the girl he fancies. He asks her to be his wife, and she must answer yes or no. If she answers no then he keeps choosing another until a girl accepts him. Each girl may only say no twice, so must accept the third man's offer if she hasn't accepted an earlier offer. Once she gives an answer she cannot change her mind.

I'd expected us all to be lined up and made to undress, as in the slave market, but I begin to realise this isn't a slave auction. We are brides, not slaves. This is a communal marriage ceremony.

The ceremony begins. I can't work out how the order for the men to come forward is worked out. I'd thought the head of the tribe and his sons and supporters would be first, but it doesn't appear to be the case. Nor do the eldest or strongest seem to get first choice.

I begin to suspect that despite the girls being kept apart from the men these past days, that somehow arrangements have been made between some couples. Nearly all the men go straight to the girl of their fancy and receive an immediate acceptance. My suspicions are confirmed when the young man Helen has been giving encouraging looks comes straight to her, and now Helen is promised in marriage.

Perhaps I should have followed Helen's example over the last week. She most certainly spent every opportunity advertising her attributes to the target of her affections.

About half the men have come forward and all have found a partner. Very few receive a refusal from the first girl they ask. Rebecca and I remain to be asked and none of the remaining girls have had to say no more than once. I start to eye the remaining men to see if there is one who takes my particular fancy. Maybe it's not too late to have some say in this matter. Further down the line I see Rebecca doing the same.

Suddenly a man in flowing robes and large hood comes forward and goes to Rebecca. He bows and she responds with her best Lawson Peabody curtsy. She smiles and says yes to his question. The two of them go join the other couples awaiting the formal marriage ceremony.

Five minutes later a young man walks straight towards me and stands in front of me.


	18. Chapter 18

Part 18:

"Will you marry me, Mary Jacky Faber?" comes the question.

I stand in utter shock when I realise who it is under his flowing robes.

"Jaimy!" I cry, only managing to keep my voice down to a whisper at the last second.

"Yes, it's me. Well, will you marry me?"

"Oh yes, Jaimy. But how ..."

"Sshh! … Later. Come, let us join Hassan and Rebecca."

Jaimy guides me to the others. My mind is in such a whirl that I almost forget how to walk. Sure enough, there with Rebecca is Hassan.

"Hello, Zakiyah," says Hassan. "I must leave Rayhanah in your care for a few moments while I go find Atika." Rayhanah and Atika are the names given to Rebecca and Helen when we arrived at Wadi Halaf.

"I saw her over there a few minutes ago," I reply, pointing to an area off to one side where several of the couples were busy getting to know each other better. "I think you'll find she wants to stay here," I add.

Hassan goes to find her. I turn to Rebecca.

"So Hassan has asked you to marry him?" I ask.

"No. He asked if I'd like to go back to America. It seems my ransom has been paid and I can leave with most of the other girls as soon as we get back to Wadi Halaf."

Hassan returns and confirms Helen wants to stay. He suggests Rebecca and I say farewell to her as we'll be leaving as soon as the marriage ceremony is over. For some reason my wedding to Jaimy will have to wait for another day.

The head of the village sees Hassan and comes over to talk.

"Did you find your three girls, Hassan?" he asks.

"Yes, but it seems the charms of your village has enthralled one of them and she wishes to stay."

"Then all our needs are met; which is how life should be. Will you stay for the feast?"

"Alas, no. We must return to Wadi Halaf as soon as possible. The youngest one has a long journey home."

Rebecca and I say our fond farewells to Helen, who seems truly happy in her choice to stay. We promise to write, although none of us know if there is any form of postal service out here in the foothills of the Atlas mountains.

We wait to see Helen married to her young man and we congratulate them before departing. Once we are on the open road I ask Hassan a question that has been troubling me.

"How did you manage to find us? And why did the Berber allow you to enter their village and rescue us? You were at war when we were taken from Wadi Halaf."

"As to finding you, some of the injured Berber we captured told us they came from Biri Barash, so it was reasonable to assume they would bring you here. Don't forget my mother was a Berber, so I am familiar with the customs of her people. Lieutenant Fletcher and I rode into the village unarmed, so we were accepted as guests. The rest you do not need to concern yourself with."

I'm a little uncertain how I should behave with Jaimy in front of Hassan. By rights I am Hassan's slave, so not at liberty to even talk to another man without his consent. But next morning I risk at least a conversation with Jaimy while Hassan isn't looking.

"Thank you for rescuing me," I say to Jaimy as we ride north to Wadi Halaf.

"Well, Hassan deserves most of the credit. But I insisted on coming along. He has rewarded Randall and I for our help in defending Wadi Halaf. He has passed his claim over Clarissa and you to Randall and I. You're our war prizes, if you like."

"I don't know if I like being traded like that. I hope you don't expect me to call you 'master'. What did Clarissa say?"

"Nothing I feel a gentleman should repeat. She wasn't very pleased. I can't understand either you. Your status is only for your protection here in Morocco, and once we are married you are free anyway."

My elation at being rescued starts to wane. I feel like I'm a just piece of property that's been traded between Hassan and Jaimy.

"What troubles you this fine morning, Zakiyah?" asks Hassan coming alongside me.

"Is it true you've given me to Jaimy as a war prize? And Clarissa … Hasibah … to Randall?"

"Unfortunately you all seem to have difficulty in understanding my offer. It is true that I wish to acknowledge the help and bravery of Lieutenants Trevelyne and Fletcher. The customs of my people require that I do. Your term 'war prize' is very appropriate. As a war prize you and Hasibah are elevated above the station of a slave, and are for all intents and purposes are free women. I and your two lieutenants are your guardians and protectors, but have no other claim over you."

"Does that mean I may stay for a while if I wish? I know I'll miss the girls when they leave. It will seem so quiet. But I need time to decide about my future."

"Yes, if you wish. … And what if I were to ask you to be my wife?" he asks out of the blue.


	19. Chapter 19

Part 19:

I'm stunned by his question. Hassan was quick enough to stop Jaimy and I being married at Biri Barash, so I guess Hassan wishes me to stay; but I had assumed it is to work in his office and dance for his guests. Or perhaps to replace A'isha as housekeeper of Wadi Halaf when she gets married next month.

I don't fool myself into thinking Hassan has the same affection for me as he does for Jasmina and Sally. He admires my dancing but he positively drools at the sight of Sally as she dances.

"Why would you want to do that?" I eventually reply.

"Because we are alike in many ways and I sense you are at a crossroads. You are wondering whether you should return to the dangers of your former life, or to stay in the comfort of my house, but as a servant. I am offering you a third choice."

Am I so transparent that he knows my inner thoughts? What's his game here? Does he genuinely want to help me, or is he seeking another conquest?

A hundred questions flash through my mind but I know the answers to none.

"Do you love me?" I ask.

The words are hardly out of my mouth when I wish I hadn't said them.

"Yes, I love you. To prove how much I do, when we return to Wadi Halaf I shall ask you to join me in my room one evening."

Oh, what am I to do? I am so very uncertain …

After five days hard riding we arrive at Wadi Halaf to the joyous greeting of everyone.

The signs of battle had been cleared, although the outer walls will show the pot marks from the Berber muskets for decades to come. Fortunately the loss of life is relatively small. None of the girls were hurt and Hassan's injured soldiers are recovering. It appears Helen, Rebecca and my capture was the end of the battle. The Berber raid had the simple aim of seizing some women to replace those killed at Biri Barash. They must have decided three captives were enough given the fierce resistance we all put up.

Rebecca and I are allowed to spend a few hours in the harem having a bathe and cleaning ourselves after our ordeal. We find all the girls, A'isha included, come and join us. We catch up on the news from the other girls. As Hassan said, nearly all the ransoms have been paid and the girls will be freed and returned to America as soon as a suitable ship arrives in Salé.

As Helen knew, no ransom has arrived for her; nor for Sally or I as we both expected. Ransoms could not be raised for poor Annie and Sylvie, but I understand Clarissa has had a hand in securing their release. But she is very evasive when I ask how she achieved it.

I know Helen is happy with her new husband, and Sally is no stranger to Hassan's bed. She and Jamina need have no worries about a secure future here with Hassan. As for me … I don't know.

I suddenly feel very uncertain. What of Jaimy? He asked me to marry him and I said yes; but I'm suddenly not sure I wish to leave Wadi Halaf.

That evening, after the initial excitement of Rebecca's and my return to Wadi Halaf has passed, I sit quietly in my alcove contemplating my future. Most of the girls are busy discussing what they wear for their arrival back in Boston since, for most of them, their school uniforms are now too small.

Clarissa comes and sits beside me.

"I'd thought you'd be busy packing," I say.

"No. I don't know if I'm returning with the other girls. Hasn't Hassan told you?"

"It seems to have slipped his mind. So what's happening to you? Surely your father has paid your ransom."

"Oh yes, the money arrived. But like you, I'm not Hassan's slave to ransom any more."

"I still don't see the problem. Randall will surely be taking you back to America."

"I don't know. Randall has been very evasive about whether he and I will be leaving with the other girls. At first he said he was waiting for Jaimy to return to see if he succeeded in finding you. But now you're back safe and sound, he still won't tell me. I think he's enjoying his hold over me."

"Well, I'll ask Hassan and Jaimy in the morning. Don't worry, I'm sure it will turn out alright."

Clarissa's revelation puts a new light on my dilemma. I know enough about Moroccan customs by now to understand that a single woman must have a parent or relative to be responsible for her, of if she's a slave, an owner. But Clarissa and I have no relatives here, so we must place ourselves under the protection of either Hassan or Randall and Jaimy. Their decision is final. Despite what Hassan said, we are free only in name.

"What about your ransom money?" I ask

"Hassan handed that to Randall. Randall promised to settle matters with my parents. He was going to pocket the money, but I managed to persuade him to use it to free Annie and Sylvie. Only a small part of their ransom money could be raised in America and the six month time limit has nearly run out. Hassan was going to return it and keep Annie and Sylvie here, but he agreed to accept my ransom money in addition, and will free both of them with the others."

"That was very noble of you Clarissa. I'm proud of you."

"Well, there was a certain amount of self preservation involved. If Randall had kept the money after I had been already handed over, my father would likely have strung Randall up to the nearest tree and shown him how cheats and robbers are treated in Virginia. At least this way we can return to America without Randall being lynched."


	20. Chapter 20

Part 20:

Any possibility that Hassan has changed his mind are dispelled after breakfast the next morning when Samed informs me I am indeed asked to go to Hassan's room tonight. I could refuse; and I should if I'm being faithful to Jaimy. But I don't. I want to find out what Hassan is offering.

A'isha helps me with the preparations after our afternoon dancing practice. Firstly a hair wash and long bath with plenty of perfumed soap. Once I am thoroughly clean I rub scented oils all over my body from my neck down, until my skin takes on a light sheen. Both Sally and A'isha help me with my hair. Then comes the make-up. Not too much as my youthful skin doesn't need disguising, just enough to highlight my features. The aroma from the oils and the perfume applied behind my ears makes me slightly dizzy.

At first glance the veils of my outfit appear to be a single piece of material, which gives the pretence of hiding my body from my neck to my ankles. The gauzy material is so fine that it in fact highlights rather than hides my feminine features. Nor is it a single piece of material. There is no part of my body that cannot be touched by simply parting two pieces of filmy fabric. I look in the mirror and am amazed at the graceful young woman I see.

I have a drink of water and some fruit. This is all I'm allowed as I need to keep an appetite in case he wishes to dine with me, but sufficient to avoid my stomach rumbling if he chooses not to.

All too soon Samed is taking me to the door which connects directly from the harem to Hassan's room. Once through the door there is a short corridor with the door to his room at the other end. A chair is positioned by the door which Samed indicates I am to sit in until Hassan collects me. Samed then lights some incense on a small table besides the chair and leaves me to my fate.

The smell of the incense starts to toy with my senses. The tingling in my body heightens until the sensations coursing through my body reach fever pitch. I feel a pleasant warmth like being on the threshold of a dream; like a butterfly opening its wings for the first time. The warm sensations flow through my body, so warm that the metal of my collar feels cold by comparison. My heart and my breathing go faster. How much longer must I wait?

My body is taking control of my mind, and my mind makes one last valiant attempt at a rescue. It's the incense that's doing this! You're being seduced into surrendering your entire being! What about your promise to Jaimy?

Just as my mind seems to be regaining some control the door opens and Hassan walks towards me. I look at his torso and go weak at the knees. My heart misses a beat. Then my breathing and heart rate rapidly increase as I sink longingly into his eyes.

The next morning I feel different. I am different, I suppose. But I'm still a maiden. As passionate as our evening together was, he sensed I was not yet ready to commit to him totally. What he demonstrated to me was the choice I must make.

On one hand there is Hassan, a skilful lover who can offer me comfort and security. But I would be only one wife among others; I would have to learn to share his affections. But then, part of what I've enjoyed here in Morocco is the company of other girls in the harem. Not just those from the Lawson Peabody school, but Jasmia, A'isha and many others who were here when we arrived or have joined us since. And as his wife I would no longer be confined to Wadi Halaf.

On the other hand there is Jaimy. My brave hero who has travelled half the world to rescue me. My first love, who has shared the dangers and excitement of much of my life since I escaped the gutters of London. He has prospects of higher rank in the navy, and his parents are not without means. And I would be his only wife; no sharing him with others. However, there is the matter of the large reward for my hide to sort out, but surely that can be resolved.

My musing is interrupted by Clarissa,

"Randall has confirmed he and I are returning with the other girls in two days time. A ship has arrived to take us all home. Isn't it great!"

A wave of relief and excitement overcomes me and I hug Clarissa and share the rejoicing that the welcome news brings the others.

"What about you?" asks Clarissa.

I smile and for the first time I feel I know there is only one possible choice for me. I go to find Jaimy and Hassan and tell them my decision.

[End of Book 1 - Continued in _On the Trail of the Bloodhound_]


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